One day ago, southern most border of Rewari kingdom.
In the warm afternoon light, a group of 150 knights thundered across the countryside, their horses kicking up dust as they galloped forward.
In front, a boy of 16 years, yet majestic, was leading them with commanding respect and authority, and he was none other than Prince Pratap Singh from Mewar. He had a spear and shield on his back, while being laced with a light sword at his waist, with a no-nonsense attitude as he guided his small scout team of cavalry.
As they ventured ahead, they stumbled upon a deserted village. The streets, once supposed to be crowded, were now empty, and the huts stood silent in the harsh sunlight.
The surrounding farmlands were barren and neglected, with wilted crops and cracked earth telling a tale of abandonment. Doors hung open, revealing interiors left in disarray as if the villagers had fled in a hurry.
Despite the signs of recent occupation, there was no sign of life. No sounds echoed through the deserted streets, and no livestock grazed in the fields.
It was as if all the inhabitants of the village had suddenly disappeared into thin air
Feeling uneasy, Pratap murmured, "This is unusual," as he exchanged glances with his elite members.
"Where did everyone go?" Balwindar, the new elite commander from Pratap's forces, blurted out the thought that was on everyone's mind as he looked around.
Pratap dismounted and approached the nearby house cautiously, his hand resting on his sword. As he entered the house, he found it still empty, as if the occupants had left in a hurry.
His keen eyes surveyed the surroundings until they locked onto the broken jars and pots made of earthenware, where anything of value could be have been stored.
Prince Veerendra Singh, cousin of Pratap who is two years elder than him, entered the house hastily and asked him, "Did you find something?" to which Pratap shook his head in the negative and remarked, "There's nothing here. It's as if they have vanished into air."
As the duo came out, they were greeted with a scout member who reported," Your highness, every one of us has gone out to search the whole village but so far there is not a single soul in this village."
He also added, "We also tried to look for supplies, but not a single grain could be spotted."
Balwindar inquired with concern, "Your Highness, without fresh supplies, our base is at risk. We estimate we have a day's journey to reach capital of Rewari, but with over 2000 mouths to feed, the strain is mounting. We must find a village to replenish our provisions soon."
Prince Pratap replied with frustration, "I know that too, but our first priority should not be the problem of supplies but rather finding out what happened to the people of this village." He further added, "There is an unknown danger, and if we don't figure it out, then it might fall upon us."
Suddenly, a soldier urgent call broke the silence through empty streets, " My lord!" the soldier exclaimed with urgency. "There's a wounded old man near the cow feeding yard. He needs help!"
Pratap hurried to the scene, his heart pounding with concern. He reached the spot where the soldier had pointed.
Upon reaching there, he saw a wounded old man lying among the straws badly beaten, his wrinkled face was devoid of colour as he struggled to breathe while holding his wound in stomach. Blood still poured out, dyeing his hands with red, and staining the straws.
Kneeling beside the wounded man, Pratap gently supported his head, "What happened here? Who did this to you, elder?" Pratap asked with a soft voice.
The old man's eyes brimmed with tears as he struggled to speak. His words stammered while he pointed his hand to certain direction in hoarse voice.
"They... they took everyone... to the north," he managed to choke out between laboured breaths. "I tried to stop them... but they... they stabbed me..."
Pratap's fists clenched with anger at the old man's words, "Who were these people?" he demanded with urgency.
The old man coughed violently as he struggled to reply.
Without hesitation, Pratap reached for his leather water jar. He quickly opened it and offered it to the old man's dried lips to provide momentary respite.
However, the old man denied the offer, removing Pratap's hand with his blood-soaked left hand and clutching his royal dress.
Blood came out from his lips as he managed to utter two words with pleading eyes, "Sa.. Save them," before he collapsed.
Veerendra put his hands on the dazed prince's shoulder and sympathised," Pratap, he is no more."
With a heavy heart, Pratap realized that the old man had passed away, his last moments were concern for others even in the midst of suffering.
Mixture of conflicting emotions-grief, anger, and determination surged within him as he looked at the dead man's corpse and the blood stain in his dress.
Then and there, Pratap made a silent promise to the dead man as he closed his eyes with respect. "I will find your people," he vowed," And I will save them at any cost."
As Pratap emerged from the cow feeding yard, with fury etched on his face, he turned to Balwindar, his second-in-command.
"Summon all units," he commanded with authority. "They must have the captives and supplies, they wouldn't have gone far. If we follow the northern road, we will find them."
Veerendra stepped forward with stern expression. "Pratap, don't make decisions based on sentiments," he cautioned. "We don't know their numbers or their weaponry, or even worse, what faction they belong to"
Pratap met his brother's gaze with defiance, his eyes filled with a predatory intensity that caused Veerendra to recoil back in fear. It was the bloodthirsty eyes of a predator, which wanted nothing but to hunt its prey
With a resolute but controlled voice , Pratap replied. "Bhaiya, I am thinking logically," he asserted. "They not only have the villagers but also the supplies we desperately need. They likely have the grains that can solve our current problem."
He mocked," And don't tell me bhaiya, the Rajputs of Sisodias, fear mere bandits."
With that, Pratap turned on his heel. There was no room for doubt or hesitation in his demeanour.
Veerendra, angered by the accusation of cowardice, turned his brother to face him directly and declared. "Pratap," he cleared his view point, "I am not afraid of war. If you seek revenge, don't bother with your petty tricks. I will bring you their heads. Just lead the way."
Pratap's smirk widened at his cousin brother's fiery response. "Nice!," he exclaimed by patted veerendra on the shoulder. "It wouldn't be fun without you."
With determination, they set out on the northern road in search of the villagers, accompanied by their 150 elite knights but with only shield for armour, until they finally spotted the revealing dust in the air which was an ominous sign of the trouble ahead.
**********
Pratap narrowed his eyes, spotting a convoy of Mughal mujahideens herding the villagers like cattle. The supplies were in carts pulled by men at the front, while women and children trailed behind, whipped by the guards.
Balwindar reported, "Your Highness, it seems they are not bandits but well trained regiment. They outnumber us nearly two to one. We could return with our army and crush them easily."
Ignoring his concern, Pratap surveyed the scene. "Look, they are foot soldiers with sword and shields. We can easily take them."
He looked back to address the others, "Divide our forces into three groups. The terrain works in our favor; the road is lower while the higher slopes are sideways with little bushes, perfect for a charge. In this route they are like trapped snake and we can cut them piece by piece"
He continued, 'We'll charge in trishul formation (charge from three sides). I'll lead the central assault and trample their front. Veerendra bhaiya will flank their left and make a hole in the middle, and you'll flank from the right, targeting their rear, stopping their retreat while prioritizing the rescue of villagers.
Balwindar was stunned by the audacious plan, which seemed no less than hunting a bunch of boars rather than a well-trained unit. Even though it looked possible, the stakes were too high with a ratio of 2:1, and they were light cavalry, while the enemy didn't look like weak militia at all.
He looked at the other prince, Veerendra Singh, for support, but Veerendra simply unsheathed his own spear and shield and pulled his horse reign before giving him a look, "What? We Rajputs, never shy away from battle," he declared, backing Pratap's decision.
With a resigned sigh, Balwindar followed suit , drawing his spear and shield from his back as he prepared to lead his own group of 50 knights to charge.
**********
Meanwhile on the side of Mughal mujahidin's.
In the scorching heat of the sun, the heavy carts laden with grains and supplies crawled along the dusty road, pushed forward by able but bruised bodied men under the watchful eyes of Mughal guards.
The women, and children followed behind, their cries of pain echoed with each lash of the guards' whips.
Mounted on his horse, their commander, Mir Kafur, idly ate an apple as he conversed with his companion, Taqdeer Shah. "Miya(brother), how long until we reach the base?" Mir Kafur inquired with impatience.
Taqdeer Shah, the deputy commander replied with stern expression, "Hazur(sir), at our current speed, it will take us another day."
Mir Kafur let out a sigh of frustration. "Another night in camp," he muttered. "I don't understand why we're burdened with these foot soldiers. We could have dragged the slaves and supplies with our cavalry and saved ourselves the time. Damn, I need to bath"
Taqdeer Shah suppressed sigh of his own, inwardly cursing his luck. If not for Mir Kafur's connections to higher-ups, he would have led the group more efficiently.
However, his daydreaming were interrupted by Mir Kafur's booming voice.
"Hey, Kalia, spare the women. They have their own purpose. We still have a night to spend," Mir Kafur called out to one of the guards, a man named Kalia Khan.
With a wide grin, Kalia Khan nodded in agreement, redirecting his attention to targeting the men and children with his whip . He smiled at the prospect of inflicting more pain.
Yet, the women and men alike, bound in chains, found peace in prayer, invoking the name of Lord shiva for rescue.
Mir kafur, amused by their pleas, mocked their faith" You fools!", declaring the superiority of his own beliefs. "Your false god won't come to save you."
He sneered with disdain. "Only Allah is the true god and he is with us. No mercy to Kafirs."
But amidst the despair, a woman found the courage to defy her captor. "You people are no humans, You all are demons."
She spit on his direction, "Whenever there is unrighteousness, God takes incarnation to destroy it." she declared with conviction. "Your doom is certain!"
Every Mughal present laughed at her words as if she were delusional.
On the other hand, Mir Kafur, amused by her threat, stared at her from top to bottom with interest.
He commanded, "Jatha (brigade) Halt!".
He approached the woman and took the tip of her saree, jokingly, "It seems someone doesn't want to wait for the night. How about a little entertainment for everyone?" She recoiled instinctively in fear, pulling her saree to escape from his grasp, while others laughed.
Before he could carry out his threat, a sudden cry pierced the air, causing a ripple of alarm among the Mughals. "Hazur, enemies have charged," the lone marksman of group , commissioned for long vision, shouted with urgency.
In an instant, the mood shifted from mockery to apprehension as the realization dawned on the Mughal forces that their adversaries had arrived, and its time to become serious.
On the contrary their commander, Mir Kafur left the tip of the saree in fear and fell back with his horse to the rear most, he ordered Taqdeer Shah, "What are you waiting for? Go! Go! I bestow upon you my authority to command."
Taqdeer Shah clicked his tongue at the incompetent leadership of the commander who fell back just at the mention of enemies.
He quickly took charge of the situation, rallying his forces to the front.
"Commence! Shield wall."